#ranna writes

[rannadylin]

I have a tag from @polutrope for this, and since it's summer break I'm going to not forget to respond for once :-D

So, wanted to get some hiatus rec lists going and encourage some self promo in my friends so how about sharing your top fics no matter how big or small - give us the links to your wonderful words with the Most hits/Most kudos/Most comments/Most bookmarks/Most words/Least words.

And oh goodness, it's been a while since I posted any fic so let's see what comes up!

Most hits: Warriors Such As. Not surprising! (It's a DA2 fic with my Hawke/Fenris and is the last of a series with them, the previous three in the series being much shorter than this one.)

Most kudos: Wool Tinkering. Also not surprising, for who doesn't like fewer than 600 words of Perc'ahlia fluff about knitting? :-D This one still reliably gets kudos e-mails after all these years...

Most comment threads: Soul and Shield. I regret to inform you that this is a work in progress which I last updated in...yikes, 2019? It also is part of a series, this one about my Watcher Violet from Pillars of Eternity (or at least, it's the sequel to Clan and Court, which is happily finished because it was way less ambitious, and which probably should be read first for S&S to make sense?) I do still have my notes for this fic but I don't know if I will manage to finish writing it at this point. I started writing it before Deadfire and...Deadfire did not do much to inspire its continuation, I guess.

Most bookmarks: Beneficium Accipere Libertatem Est Vendere. My Fenris & Varania fic! The bookmarkers have excellent taste, this is one of my own favorites.

Most words: Co-written, there's Prepare For The Dawn at 137K thus far, which is adapted from the Pillars of Eternity ttrpg campaign GMed by @grumpy-jedi and played by @starlightcleric, @dragonologist-phd, @serenbach86, and me. Of my solo fics, it's Soul and Shield...unfinished, yet still the most words at 95K.

Fewest words: Cards and Choices, my first Critical Role fic, 228 words inspired by the moment in game that sold me on Perc'ahlia!

Bonus: Since this tag game emerged from the Tolkien/Silmarillion fandom and my actual Silm fics are not statistical stand-outs up against Critical Role and Dragon Age, honorable mention to Fall of the Hammer about Rog from the Fall of Gondolin, and In the Mirror, also about Gondolin and the only fic I've written about any of my LOTRO characters (hm, wait, that's not true, I had backstory for Linett on the old my.lotro blogs aaaaaages ago when I was still on the Nimrodel server...I should track that down and put it up on AO3 I suppose).

I shall tag (if you want to!) @serenbach86, @dragonologist-phd, @starlightcleric, @queen-scribbles, @risualto, @haledamage, @loquaciousquark and @jadesabre301.

[tired-reader-writer]

Can't write rn so have this:

“I'll kill them,” says the saffron-clad girl with jagged tattoos. “I'll kill them all. The fake-ass princes, the king, the nobles. Everyone. All of them. They'll never become a problem for my hometown. Never. I'm gonna make sure of it.”

Alfarīd takes in the sight of Ashaya's hidden face, the tremor in their lengthy frame. Takes in their voice, so full of bitterness and anger, so full of...

Fear.

Ashaya is afraid.

And who wouldn't be, when it's you against the world?

She lets herself plop down on Ashaya like she's seen cats do with each other. You can die at the hands of royalty, monkey. Consider it an honor. “Well, that makes it two of us, ey?”

Ashaya snorts. “Congratulations, you've just got a roadside fox stuck to your side for perpetuity. Now what?”

“Were you even listening to yourself? We're gonna rid the world of pests.”

“The rat bastard with the silver mask first?”

“The rat bastard with the silver mask first.”

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

WIP Wednesday

Sneak peek of a possible fic I came up with last night! This scene would be way down the line in it, but I'm too excited not to share it because there's no way I'm getting to the fic itself for a while.

The main pairing in this fic is Helen/James/John/Nikola/Ranna.

(Word count: 1,062)

-- Chapter ? of: Isn't it Lovely? --

Helen felt her lip quiver slightly as she faced Nikola.

He made no move to come closer to her. He stayed feet away from her, hands in the pockets of his coat, staring at her warily, as if she were crazy for being here. As if she shouldn't have been here, when he was the one that shouldn't have been.

"Helen." he repeated her name, shifting.

If he turned away, Helen swore she was beat him to a bloody pulp on the sidewalk. She wanted to. She wanted him to turn away so that she had the excuse. So that she could make him hurt and bleed, to show him a fraction of the pain he had caused.

"How….how are you? How are the others?"

She swallowed, taking a breath and letting it out, trying to contain the rage and the pain that filled her now.

She thought of bloody hands and blanket forts and grief in the dark.

"You left us."

Nikola winced, his expression changing, as if she had greatly hurt him for immediately bringing it up. As if he wished that she hadn't. As if he had expected to get away with what he had done.

"You left us, Nikola."

Her voice shook and Helen wanted to tell herself that it was in anger, but it was in grief. In wanting to demand why. To scream at him and cry and release all the pain that he had added to. He hadn't been the initial cause, but he had doubled it in one night.

"I know."

"You left us!"

Since he wouldn't close the gap, she did, marching closer to him, fists balled in the pockets of her coat, though she wasn't sure if it was to stop them from shaking or to stop herself from hitting him in the face.

"I know what I did."

Nikola's voice was quiet.

"Then why did you do it?"

Nikola's shoulders curved and he looked down.

"Why?"

"I couldn't take it, Helen. I couldn't…I couldn't stand it. I had to go."

"You couldn't stand the people that love you grieving? That's why you left us?"

He flinched and Helen had to swallow a hot ball that had formed in her throat.

"It wasn't you. It was me."

"You selfish bastard."

Nikola didn't respond this, looking weary.

Tears stung Helen's eyes and she forced them back.

"How are they?" Nikola asked quietly.

"Grieving James. Grieving you."

He looked smaller at the last words and Helen felt a sick sort of pleasure at this. She wanted to tear him open, drip poison into the wounds, because there was no way that he had as many as the rest of them.

"We lost you, just after James. Do you know what it's like, Nikola, to wake up the day after the funeral and find another person gone? A bloody note on the kitchen counter? To wake up and lose another person that you love? To have to face that they chose to leave you?"

A tear ran down her face.

Nikola made a strange jerky motion, as if he were going to come closer and stopped himself.

"How are you?" he pressed, as if he were desperate for the information.

"I had to come to New York to track you down, you bastard. How do you think I am?"

Helen clenched her jaw, hardly able to stop herself from screaming the words at him.

"I never hid where I am."

"You never returned any calls either."

"Are you here to ask me to come home?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because they need you."

"Why?"

"You want to know how they are, Nikola?"

Helen stalked closer, even though there was no one else around to hear what she was about to say.

"John has been seeking….revenge for James. He comes home with blood on him. We clean him up and I stitch up any injuries, so no one knows."

Nikola's eyes widened in alarm, in shock.

"He--"

"Yes."

Nikola dragged a hand through his hair, shaking his head in denial. As if he couldn't believe that a man such as John had turned to such a darkness.

Helen no longer remembered if she had been surprised that seemingly gentle, uncertain John had become a killer, but she supposed her reaction had probably been the same.

"And…and Ranna?"

"She's carrying a child that's already lost two fathers. How do you think she is?"

Nikola cringed.

"They need you, Nikola. You may not deserve to come home, you may not deserve them, but they need you."

Her tears ran down her face freely now and Helen hated herself for it.

She was supposed to be the strong one. She was the one that was supposed to be steady, for the others. She was the one that had come to New York to bring Nikola home.

She wasn't supposed to be crying now.

He moved closer now, as if to take her in his arms, but Helen threw up her hand to prevent him from doing so.

Nikola's eyes searched her face, expression pleading.

"What about you, Helen? Do you need me?"

"What I need doesn't matter."

Nikola's eyes scanned her, lingering on her face.

"You're sick, aren't you?"

His voice was so soft it was nearly lost despite their proximity.

Helen swallowed and nodded.

Nikola's expression broke and she saw the fear and the pain.

"Do they know?"

"Yes."

"Do they know how serious it is?"

"No."

"Can you survive?"

"Perhaps."

Nikola grasped her shoulders and stared her in the eyes, terror in his.

"What are you planning, Helen?"

"Protecting my family."

She shrugged him off, seeing the tears in his eyes. That was something she couldn't stand.

"Come home, Nikola. Stop being a coward when people love you."

He kept staring at her and Helen had the impression that she had taken a hammer to the cracked world he had been living in since they had been told of James's death.

She smiled as the rain began in earnest.

Good.

He would have no choice but to come home now.

"Helen--"

Helen turned and began to walk away, ignoring him even as she kept crying.

Her mind was already far away from where they were, back in a blanket fort and warmth and safety, which was more than the man behind her could give her now.

[queen-scribbles]

Bad boy, Jhesen, that’s not the Jedi way😋

[captain-kraken]

it's a very common belief that Pocha has eaten people before and will do again.

this is because there was one time where Pocha lost his temper and bit someone on the arm, who then believed that he was trying to eat them, so they spread the rumour when they returned from De'aba

Pocha heard about the rumour and fully embraced it, to the point where he actively tries to encourage it just for his own amusement

[finely-aged-dragons]

The Herald arrived mere minutes after being notified of the letter arriving from their clan, wide-eyed and out of breath. After collecting herself and neatening her armor, she waved Cullen’s suggestion off and agreed to Leliana's suggestion of sending a gift of needed supplies as a sign of good faith.

“It should be something official, then?" Ranna paused, lips pursed. “Mother's going to hate that... I'll need something to pacify her..." An idea struck her, then. She pulled a carved pendant from beneath her tunic. “We'll send them the ‘official’ letter, and the supplies, but this as well.”

“Your pendant?"

“It's a puzzle box my mother made for me when I was young," Ranna said, smiling. "Only the two of us know how to open it. I'll leave her a note within that I'm alright and I'm staying to help. That should reassure her I'm still alive and not being coerced.”

Ranna allowed Josephine to peer closer at the interlocking wooden pendant. “A remarkable piece, to be sure. Are you sure you want to send it?”

“It's the only way to reassure her,” Ranna said with a sigh. “She's...protective.” Very protective. Ranna was a sickly child until about five years old, and her mother had never really let go of the fear of Falon'Din guiding her child away from her prematurely. “I'll set the note within and bring the pendant to you in a short while,” she said to Leliana, turning away from the table.

[thecreaturecodex]

Ranna

"Slaadi" © Wizards of the Coast, by Sam Wood

[New Year, New Monsters! I am feeling much less burnt out than I was for the back half of 2023, and have built up a small backlog of new writing. I'm going to keep monsters I post to 2/week for now, to give myself time to go through said backlog in case the burnout rears up again when I'm back to work.

So for my first trick, is a monster NPC I actually wrote back in like September, but didn't post. Consider her an epilogue to the whole "Monster Girl Summer" thing. Ranna is @strawberry-crocodile's character, and fits with some of my other monstrous NPCs. She's Doctor Shiny's main minion, and their relationship serves as sort of a nasty counterpart to Gigi and Priscilla's. Of course, if you just want to use the stat block as a particularly burly slaad enforcer type, that works just as well as Ranna's baroque and macabre backstory.]

Ranna CR 18 CE Aberration This blue, frog-like humanoid has a triangular fanged snout, warty skin and enormous claws growing from the backs of their hands. A red gemstone is embedded in their skull, right between the eyes.

Marina Rhynne was an alchemy student at Endirion School in Absalom, prone to anxiety and to thinking with her stomach. She caught the eye of Doctor Agatha Shiny, who used the pretext of a dinner invitation and offer of a graduate program to abduct her and implant her with an alchemically treated red slaad egg. Doctor Shiny succeeded in one of her goals, which was to cause memories to be passed from the host to the parasite, but failed in that the resultant blue slaad did not maintain the intelligence of her progenitor. The resultant slaad, named Ranna, could recall her previous life in a hazy, dream-like way, but the predominant personality trait that was carried over was hunger.

Ranna is now Doctor Shiny’s Number One Minion, her assassin, procurer and lover. If Doctor Shiny needs someone eliminated or an unusual creature captured and brought to her, Ranna is the one to do it. She usually tracks her targets as an unassuming humanoid until she can set up an ambush and remove her greater hat of disguise. Ranna fights with her natural weapons almost exclusively, although she does occasionally toy with targets by battering them with heavy objects hurled by telekinesis. Although she is lapdog-loyal to Doctor Shiny and always follows her instructions for her specified victims, Ranna enjoys collateral damage, which usually involves biting bystanders. She views any red slaadi that are created through chaos phagethe way a proud parent views their children, and is happy to hear of any death and destruction they create.

Ranna’s personality is playful in a cruel way. She sees her progenitor, Marina Rhinne, as a pathetic figure, and has an air of contempt towards academic pursuits in general. She still appears as Rhynne when abroad in Absalom, and is the terror of Endirion School’s faculty, staff and students as Doctor Shiny’s personal assistant. Ranna is happy to play the bad guy so that Doctor Shiny can maintain her impeccable public reputation, and takes matters into her own claws if anyone gets too close to the truth about Doctor Shiny’s goals and activities. Ranna tends to dispose of the evidence of her murders by eating the corpses of her victims. She is also an excellent chef. Doctor Shiny does not eat food that Ranna prepares unless she is very sure of where the meat came from.

Ranna  CR 18 XP 153,600 Blue slaad slayer 9 (cutthroat) CE Large aberration (chaotic, slaadi) Init +8; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +19

Defense AC 33, touch 20, flat-footed 24 (-1 size, +8 Dex, +1 dodge, +9 natural, +4 armor, +2 deflection) hp 303 (11d8+9d10+200); fast healing 6 Fort +22, Ref +20, Will +15 Immune mind reading, sonic; Resist acid 10, cold 10, electricity 10, fire 10; SR 19

Offense Speed 30 ft. Melee +3 bite +32 (2d6+16 plus disease), 2 +3 claws +32 (2d6+16/19-20x3) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks augmented critical, opportune target, rend (2 claws, 2d6+22), sneak attack +3d6, stab and grab, studied target (swift or move action, +2) Spell-like Abilities CL 8th, concentration +11 3/day—hold person (DC 15), passwall, telekinesis (DC 18) 1/day—chaos hammer (DC 17)

Statistics Str 36, Dex 26, Con 30, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 16 Base Atk +17; CMB +31 (+33 bull rush); CMD 52 Feats Alertness,Awesome Blow, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Critical (claw), Improved Natural Attack (bite), Intimidating Prowess, Killing Flourish, Power Attack Skills Acrobatics +20 (+24 in urban environments), Bluff +16, Climb +20, Disable Device +25, Disguise +16, Intimidate +34, Linguistics +4, Perception +19 (+23 vs. traps), Profession (chef) +14, Sense Motive +19, Stealth +21, Survival +15 Languages Common, Slaadi SQ legendary, slayer talents (surprise attack, trapfinding [trap sense +3], stalker, street stalker (Acrobatics) Gear manual of gainful exercise +4 (expended), manual of quickness of action +2 (expended), manual of bodily health +4 (expended), belt of physical perfection +4, bloodstained gloves, greater hat of disguise, soulbound eye, amulet of mighty fists +3, bracers of armor +4, boots of teleportation, cloak of resistance +3, ring of mind shielding, ring of protection +2, potion of fly (x2), potion of displacement, potion of haste, potion of lesser restoration (x2), potion of cure light wounds (x4), masterwork cooking tools, 150 gp

Special Abilities Augmented Critical (Ex) A blue slaad’s claws deal x3 damage on a successful critical hit. Disease (Su) Chaos phage; bite—injury; save Fort DC 25; onset 1 minute; frequency 1/day; effect 1d6 Con damage and 1d6 Cha damage; cure 2 consecutive saves. A creature that is reduced to 0 Con or Cha by chaos phage is immediately transformed into a red slaad. This transformation can only be reversed by a miracle or wish. A Small or Medium humanoid with levels in an arcane spellcasting class instead transforms into a green slaad. The save DC is Constitution based. Legendary (Ex) Ranna’s statistics are built with 25 point buy, and she has the equipment of an 18th level PC. These advantages increase her CR by +1. Opportune Target (Ex) If Ranna can act in the surprise round, she can study a foe as a free action and select them as her studied target. Stab and Grab (Ex) As a swift action, Ranna can attempt a steal combat maneuver against a dead or unconscious foe, or against a studied target that she has successfully confirmed a critical hit against. A dead or unconscious opponent takes a -10 penalty against this maneuver. Street Stalker (Ex) Ranna adds ½ her slayer level to Acrobatics checks made in urban environments.

[mihstar]

This or That - Tag Game

Thanks for tagging me, @elliespuns

coffee or tea | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | flute or lyre | butterflies or honeybees | macarons or eclairs | typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather| ocean or desert | masquerade ball or cocktail party | reading or writing | movies or tv shows | bunnies or guinea pigs | netflix or sex | wine or beer | carpet or hardwood | company or solitude | junk food or healthy food | comedy or horror | sneakers or flipflops | skirts or jeans | sweet or salty | bathtub or shower | rain or sun | partying or daydreaming | laptop or computer | guitar or piano | food or sleep | hot drink or cold drink | banana or water melon | red or yellow

Bonus tlou questions by @elliespuns

Ellie or Abby | Joel or Tommy | Riley or Dina | young Ellie or adult Ellie (don't make me choose that-) | part 1 or part 2 | playing as Joel or playing as Ellie | Ellie's summer outfit or Ellie's winter outfit

No pressure tags: @verybigvag @22thumbs @ranna-alga

[unfair-water-plane]

Remains of the Night!!!!

(A snippet from a piece I was writing set in the Old Kingdom from Garth Nyx’s ‘Abhorson’ series. It’s my oldest WIP, started in 2004 when I first read Sabriel. My writing has changed so much, so be patient with Highschool UWP)

There were rumors, even in the city.

Oh, everyone knew the stories. There were monsters in the woods, dangers in the shadows. The peasants who lived in the wastes would not venture out of their shacks after dusk, and traders who traveled the roads swore men made of mist and women made of moonlight stalked the darkling hours between dusk and dawn. But the educated rich only scoffed at that, chuckling at the folly of lesser people. Wolves took those who wandered at night, it was well known, and shadows played tricks on tired minds. That was all it was, and everyone knew it.

But still...there were rumors. And rumors held truth, if you looked deep enough. Smoke could not coil into the air without fire to breed it. And whether the noble and merchant classes had wanted to see the truth or not, things were still happening in the wastes and in the borderlands. Things that could not be explained, things that would not be rationalized out of existance. But the kings and nobles did not care to dwell on it, and there was no profit to be made for merchants to investigate.

And so it fell on those who did not hold a sceptical light to the darker things of the world.

The first time Ruben had seen a shade he had been seven, and had ventured too far towards the border of his father’s plantation. But he’d been a curious child, and had chased locusts and frogs through the fields of late summer wheat to the copse of trees around the farm brook. The creaking of taut rope had drawn his attention upward, and he’d seen the hanged men. Thieves hung for crimes, almost a century before. But their ghosts lingered, and he had the power to see them.

His father had followed terrified screamings to the child, but by the time he arrived Ruben had gone still and silent. Only his eyes showed any sign of life, wide and terrified and unblinking. He had lain like that for two days when a necromancer had stopped by the large estate, hoping for shelter in exchange for work. It had been he who had explained the meaning of Ruben’s condition, and he who had loaded the child on the front of a horse and taken him north.

Ten years of training- on the art of music, sword play and the dead- had led to his final induction into the life. A sacrifice was required, but he’d gladly paid it, and had been gifted with the cloak and gear of his order. At his waist was a sword, forged with steel and silver and iron, to fight any enemy he might cross. And across his breast were the seven bells of his practice, from the tinny Ranna to the ever silent Astarael. All he used to bind the dead, ridding all he came across of ghosts and ghasts and those creatures of the night he could tame or destroy.

And he had heard the rumors. The necromancers had not forgotten the old histories the wars with the fae and the walls that had saved them. Scholars in their own right they hoarded knowledge, and sought it where ever possible. And he had sought it in the wastes, near the borderlands.

The forests held little fear for him before, but as he had worked his way farther and farther from the cities the dangerous became more real. Towards night he had made it his habit to dismount, leading the black stallion through the thick undergrowth to find campsites. Tamilal was a necromancer’s horse, and balked at nothing, but he seemed to appreciate the concern.

[sparrowsarus]

I'm sorry, but I have to ask about Abhorsen!Ed because I could just talk to you about this idea for ages. 😄 What part are you most excited to write? and 🃏 Wildcard, dealer’s choice: share a snippet, a thought, a concern, a feeling, anything you like!

Never be sorry. You and I are probably the only audience for this AU (which I intend to focus more fully on after The Blue Knight). Talk to me about it when and whatever.

I am most excited to write about the binding of Szass Tam! I have a few ideas about the situation.

Also: Ed asking Xenk for sword practice, because it's been a while and Holga's fighting style is just too different from his. It just looks so cool in my head!!

Here are the bellwielders:

Kira: Ranna is the Sleeper, the smallest bell, with a sweet and low sound, which brings sleep to those who hear it.

Simon: Mosrael is the Waker, a harsh and rowdy bell, which brings dead bodies to life as the wielder falls into Death in a see-saw effect.

Holga: Kibeth is the Walker, a difficult and contrary bell of several sounds, which can make others go where you wish.

Doric: Belgaer is the Thinker, a tricksome bell that seeks to ring of its own accord, which allows independent thought for the Dead, or erases memories.

Ed: Dyrim is the Speaker, a musical bell with a clear and pretty tone, which allows speech or makes things mute, and can silence someone if their tongue moves too freely.

Xenk: Saraneth is the Binder, the deepest, lowest bell, which forces the listener to obey the wielder's will.

Zia: Astarael is the Weeper, the largest bell, which throws all who hear it, including the wielder, deep into Death. (hundred hundred heartbeats)

I am concerned about actually...writing it. It may end up a series of disconnected scenes, a blend of the movie and Abhorsen, otherwise I can see it breaking down very fast.

[captainmortuem]

Hello there! I am you swtor secret Santa come to ask some questions! I have found your oc blog and read through it. I would love to know who your fav swtor oc is? (Or if you have multiple fav’s). Second I would love to know more about your ocs partners/lover interests if possible :D

You ever get an ask that makes your realize you're going to sit down and write more than you want to on a phone, so you jump on a computer instead?

Apologies in advance to anybody who doesn't give a shit about Star Wars, that's literally all this (short) post is.

Favorite SWTOR OC:

Good question, at least out of the list I've got probably four who each hold a special place in my heart. Shesali; this gal here is my Jedi Consular who is tied with my JK for most loved and least shown off, sister of my Sith Inquisitor and wife of my Jedi Knight. Her love interest really only ends up being Shim whenever I talk about her. Shim Leedes; this gentleman is the aforementioned Jedi Knight, like I said, tied with Shesali for the most love and the least "screentime." They're kind of a package deal because neither of them have canon love interests, I figured their story was tragic enough to leave it at that. Although Shim did have a thing with Ranna Tao'ven when he was in the Jedi Academy. Kairous Sancar; seen here is my Agent, his main love interest is Raina Temple. I love him dearly, probably just above the previous two because the Agent story line is so good to me, even if the main antagonist has a very unfortunate name for me.

And the classic, my baby boy who I'm always so open to loving with all my heart, Dahay Dunbor. He's the classic, he's my first SWTOR toon, the one I've gotten the furthest in the story with, and he's been oh so dear to my heart since the beginning. His main love interest is Lana Beniko, because my main love interest (in SWTOR) is Lana Beniko.

[rannadylin]

Corrugated ribbing, my beloathed! It looks so nice but it's such a hassle to knit...I will say, though, that since I learned to hold each color of yarn in a different hand for two-color knitting, and do the purl stitches with the left-hand yarn, it's a much smoother process than when I first learned to do it and had to drop one yarn and pick up the other and move the yarn from front to back and back to front to alternate knits and purls and so on.

I got the chart for these gloves all ready to begin and then looked at the actual pattern notes from the prototype gloves and realized I have to first do the corrugated ribbing. Oh dear! XD And if that isn't hassle enough, we're going to top that ribbing with a Latvian Braid.

So anyway, after a few rows of this nonsense, I let myself get distracted from the two inches of ribbing I need to knit by...uh...filming the process. And then I discovered I have a video editor so I added stuff. :-D Just how much can I procrastinate actually finishing this ribbing? I'd better get back to it now!

[tired-reader-writer]

Ashaya backstory revamp

Ever since classes started again I have been consistently unable to either draw or write, and it's frustrating me a lot, so I'll just have to settle for making AU posts.

Andragoras and Tahamenay's child, that has not changed.

Given to some family in the Tabaristan region (formerly known as Mazandaran in ancient times), who were given hush money in exchange of raising them.

Ever since she was young, Sherine has noticed that she is... different.

Her parents leave her out. Her siblings pick up on that and leave her out too. Her parents don't treat her the same way they treat their other children.

Besides which, Sherine is not dumb. She realizes pretty quickly that she looks different from the rest of her family. Face too pointy. Hair too light.

People say she's a beautiful child.

Her parents seem determined to prove them otherwise.

Sherine is given more chores to do. Given plainer clothes. Made to stand behind her siblings at any given event.

She cries. She screams and struggles and stomps and yells in hopes that they'd listen, they'd know, this is unfair, she's their daughter too, isn't she? Sherine is—

Sherine is not dumb.

Sherine knows that whatever she is, she doesn't belong here.

People say she's a beautiful child.

Her family says she's nothing but trouble.

She wanders her hometown, sneaking off from doing chores at home. Spends her days scanning the faces of the townspeople— the merchants, the neighbors, the strangers, even the slaves. She looks and looks and looks, for any hint of similarity, any bit of resemblance, anything that might echo back to what she sees in the mirror, in the waters, every day.

Sneaks out of her house, flits from street to street, in a desperate bid to find someone, anyone, with some iteration of her features hiding amongst the crowds.

Stalks the family of that jolly grape seller from a couple blocks over, because they were light-haired like her even if the shades don't even come close to matching.

Hers is always different.

Hers is too peculiar.

Ivory-blond with rosy tips, hair of an outsider.

Mama beats her and sends her to bed without dinner.

Curling up in bed, hungry in a way that no amount of food would satisfy, Sherine thinks.

She doesn't belong here.

She isn't a child of this family.

She doesn't think she's even related to them.

Where are her parents?

Did they die? Is that why papa and mama take her in? Because they knew her parents?

Except, really, they mustn't have loved her parents, whoever they were, because if they did then surely they would treasure Sherine too. Right?

Right?

If they died and nobody here loved them, then why is she here? Wouldn't she have been put on the doorsteps of a temple or taken from the streets by... by...

She'll never get the image out of her head, a slaver, flogging a young boy barely older than her.

She's seen them, on her escapades, prowling the streets sniffing around for any abandoned baby by a roadside or in an alleyway.

She shudders thinking about it. Mama always says one of these days she's going to sell Sherine, too.

She's scared.

She doesn't know.

Whatever the case was, she was unwanted in some way. Is unwanted, right now in this present she lives in, unwanted by this family, unwanted by whoever decided to leave their daughter on this doorstep.

She clutches her aching stomach.

She doesn't sleep.

Day by day, night by night, she prays what little words she manages to remember.

Prays to be loved.

Prays to be found.

Prays to be...

To be...

There's a tale in this town.

If you wander deep into the woods, you'll find a dilapidated place.

They call it a temple. That's stupid. The building looks nothing like a temple.

Those who wander in, they say, come back wrong.

Come back days, months, years later.

No matter how long they take, they don't look a day older.

They were playing, her siblings and the other kids, they play, but she never gets included. They get mean when she tries. They always give her whatever's the worst.

She runs.

She runs and runs and runs until her legs burn and there's no air in her lungs.

She doesn't notice the butterflies frozen in air.

She doesn't notice the sudden stillness of the trees after a certain point.

Not until she trips.

There, on the ground, stained in mud and dirt and snot and tears, she curls up like she always does at night.

She's so hungry.

She hears their voices, a couple bushes over, arguing about the prey they were supposed to hunt.

They don't find her.

She bolts upright, startled, nerves tingling with something she doesn't know what to name.

She looks around.

Silence and stillness.

She should be afraid, she thinks. She should try to leave. To go home, to go find those dummies who didn't even see her when they were nearby.

But she thinks of their meanness, of mama's anger and papa's weird stares, of the prowling slavers wandering the streets.

Just a little bit, she thinks. Just a little longer. Just a little bit of peace. She'll take the beatings later, she'll deal with that when they catch her.

That's right.

She just has to not get caught for a little while longer.

[brain juices running out so this will be reverting back from story mode to summary mode, augh]

Anyways, she spends a long time (to her) in the woods and doesn't really notice that the sun isn't moving in the sky bc she's a little kid and she's too busy rolling around and having fun until she falls asleep out of exhaustion (both physical and emotional, since all the shit she went through finally caught up to her in a safe moment)

(you'll notice that in the story/narration part “Sherine” refers to themselves by she/her bc at the time they hadn't had the chance to realize y'know, the gender stuff)

Sherine wakes up, finds that it's night, and she can't find her way back.

(the haunted area actually booted her out so she's in a different spot of the forest)

Kid has an epiphany of sorts.

“She can't stay here.

Not anymore.

If she's so unwanted anyways, what harm would it do for her to disappear?

For her to leave?”

So she does.

Anyways, it's night, Farangis (with some clan adults) is wandering the area for a reason I have yet to fully decide on.

They meet.

Sherine is absolutely taken by this gorgeous lady.

One long conversation later while Farangis does her best to clean the kid up, it's abundantly clear that Sherine is Not Okay.

So they get taken!

And Sherine gets to chop off their hair and choose a new name.

But until she settles on a proper name she chose for herself, their temporary name is Ranna.

Sherine has a complicated relationship with girlhood because of the toxic standards that were forced on her by their “parents”.

Anyways that's how Ashaya comes to join the clan!

What I imagine a young ex-Sherine to look like as she leaves with Farangis.

Fun fact, Areyan is usually a sweet and gentle kid but for some unknown reason he and Ashaya regularly gets into fisticuffs.

They're 7 when they join the clan. Farangis is 15, she'd just come of age.

At some point I kinda wanted Ashaya and Alfarīd to have met in their younger years but I don't see that working out w this trajectory sooooo... oops.

Anyways, a look into Ashaya's trauma! Where their lack of hope and faith in the world stems from. I somehow couldn't get into it in the narration but her family house could own slaves, maybe, (still she gets made to do chores bc Double Standards), and on her escapades to find her parents or relatives in the town she gets to see a whoooole lot of violence thrown at slaves and poor commoners and it always stuck w them.

She tries questioning it once, they got punished.

Kinda echoes Alfarīd's hopelessness in the nation too, she did say in the manga “there's no point to restoring the nation, it'll just make new nobles and new slaves” and it's an attitude Ashaya holds, too.

It'll be up to them to find that hope again. Alfarīd would be the one to eventually give back hope to Ashaya, but for that she herself will have to believe.

Unlike in canon I don't really see Alfarīd coming to believe in someone changing the system, rather that there's something worth living for even in a broken world. I think she'd have an attitude like that. It just fits her.

(I'm reminded of the song Kamado Tanjirou no Uta from the AU playlist, and that one video from Hello Future Me about the Ghibli movie The Boy and the Heron.)

(“We did not choose this world. But we must live in it.”)

To elaborate on why Ashaya lost faith in the world, it's smth like, if something so terrible and hurtful like the slavery system is allowed to exist, if nobody batted an eye at the abuse she went through, if nobody thinks to hold abusers accountable, if people are rewarded with brutality for their kindness, then... there's nothing worth saving here.

In addition to their own abuse they also saw others being abused, remember that the clan is made up of runaways and hurt people and abandoned people and victims and survivors— almost nobody who comes to the clan... came from happiness.

Is it any wonder that their faith was broken?

In contrast, let's look at Alfarīd. Protective instincts, strong sense of justice, responsible if a bit chaotic, remember how in the manga Alfarīd urges Estelle to remember the women and children and injured they'd saved? That they must think of, that they must protect, instead of thinking about the King?

Alfarīd, I think, abhors the system, but still sees people and things worth protecting anyways.

(and not to jump all over like a kangaroo but let's talk about Farangis this time)

She's an orphan. She entered the temple of Mithra after her loss. She was too talented. Too diligent. Too beautiful. People shunned her because of it.

And I'm willing to bet there's aggression and subtle bullying, too.

Look, it's a closed community. That sort of place gets rancid real fast.

(I would know. I myself was trapped in a prison of a boarding school where my suicidal ideation got wayyyyyyy bad.)

So, y'know, Ashaya-as-Sherine is a reflection of her days in the temple. That's why she has a soft spot for her.

Farangis is one of the few people Ashaya will listen to.

Anyways that concludes thus the post about Ashaya!

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

For the wip bird asks!!

🦜+ 🐧+ 🦉+ 🐦 + 🦩

Thank you! Really spoiling with the birds, thank you!!! 🥰

🦜 a pretty quote (you like the prose, or symbolism, or it's poetic, or you just like how it feels/the word choice!)

The burning was practical, cleansing, respectful. Final. They used traditional methods, even though they had long since moved past needing torches for lighting fires or even needing fires beyond funeral pyres. For a few moments, Ranna didn't think that she could do it. She stared at the body on the pyre, wrapped in a shroud of the traditional colors of the Seneschal family. She remembered being a girl, her family laid out on their pyres, Alaric holding the torch and lighting them, to spare her, even though she was the closest relative of most. She was the only one now. She had to do this for him. Ranna took the torch, not flinching as it shed sparks and burning scraps. The words had all been said. This was all that was left. She touched it to the pyre and rested it there as it caught immediately, only backing off when the flames leapt high and hot, bowing her head for a moment before forcing herself to look at them. There were no tears now and Ranna wondered if that was a bad thing. Her grief was still there, of course, but the tears that had poured out of her were no longer there. Gregory stood on one side of her, Toland on the other, and she felt comforted by their presence, though they were there more for support of her than to say goodbye to Alaric. Which was okay, she found, despite her bitterness towards the turnout. The burning took a long time, as it always did. But at the same time it didn't feel like long enough. Because as soon as the burning was over, it was time for the presentation to Kaanan. The members of the Senate escorted Ranna through the streets to the government building, taking a route that she had never traced before, even in her years of training. In her years of running through these halls as a child, in awe of what she was born for. Ranna no longer felt in awe of it, but she felt like that child again.

Untitled Ranna Fic (angsty, but I like the prose)

🐧 a funny quote (silly! laughs! jokes! puns!)

Nikola rolled his eyes as Ashley came charging over, closely followed by Henry. "No running in the kitchen." Helen scolded as Ashley moved to completely invade Nikola's space, clearly sizing him up. Nikola didn't back down and just looked at her with an arched eyebrow. "I thought you would be taller." Ashley said, skipping introductions completely. "I thought the same thing about you." Nikola returned. Helen's maternal reflex already had her opening her mouth to scold Nikola, because it wasn't the first time someone had commented on Ashley being short in comparison to her parents, but she stopped when Ashley drew herself up and looked Nikola up and down before she grinned. "Nikola, this is Ashley." "The pigeon tormentor." Nikola said, nodding. Ashley looked confused, but took Nikola's hand when he offered it to her. Then he turned to Henry. "And you must be Heinrich." Henry took Nikola's hand with a very serious expression. "Mum doesn't like you." "Henry." Helen said, cheeks heating, partially because that wasn't strictly true anymore. "At least he's honest." Nikola said, shrugging. "And your mother and I have come to an understanding."

Enigmatic Confections (I hope this counts, the Ashley and Nikola was the first funny thing I thought of)

🦉 a clever quote (something you're proud of!)

"You are not property, Helen, but you are valuable. You are the firstborn of Clan Bancroft. The only child of your mother's line left. This clan will be yours very shortly. Whoever takes your hand will be in a high position and must bring an equal sum." "Why must I marry at all?" Helen winced and amended her statement. "Why must I marry so soon? I do not want to try to manage a marriage and my duties all at once, not until I am steady in my reign." "You are well aware of the politics between our clans." "Yes, but--" Helen broke off, biting the inside of her cheek. If she had been a boy, this wouldn't be happening. It didn't matter what her father said. The other clans were offering their sons so that her power could be pushed aside. So that they could absorb her clan into theirs, become more powerful than the others. "How could you do this to me, Father?" her whisper came out small, making her truly sound her age. Her father sighed and clasped his hands on the desk. "I made stipulations in this agreement, Helen. You may choose any of the four. He will take control of his own clan upon his marriage to you. He may not usurp your standing in this clan. Those left out of this alliance will abide by it." Helen leaned back, rocking on her heels. "I don't want this. I don't care if it will be good for the clan. I do not want this. I can not do this."

Untitled Sanctuary Clans and Marriages AU (I feel clever for this because: boom! The Five.)

🐦 a romantic quote (can be sweet or sad or sexy, or just your favorite interaction between them!)

Rana's hand slid gently over her skin as she raised herself and then pressed a kiss to the crest of Helen's swollen belly. "Keeping you awake?" Ranna asked softly. Helen slid her fingers into Ranna's dark hair, holding her close. "Mmm. Not really. They're sleeping." "Like you should be." Ranna said, shifting to kiss Helen on the mouth. Helen kissed her back, taking a moment to simply enjoy it. "What's go through that mind of yours, Helen?" Rann asked as she pulled away. "Do you hate me?" Helen whispered, surprising herself with the words. She definitely would not have asked in daylight hours. "Now why would I do that?" In answer Helen cradled her abdomen, where the baby stirred sleepily. Ranna's eyes, glistening in the dark, softened. "For giving us a child?" "For carrying the child you can't give me. For John and Nikola." Helen's voice was raw and vulnerable to her own ears. She had been telling herself it was simply the hormones of the pregnancy making her feel like this, but she knew that wasn't true. "Helen, we wouldn't have a child any other way." Ranna said patiently. "The next time one of them comes...I will do it again. I love them." "I know. And I knew that long ago." The patient tone was irking Helen and she sat up, wrapping her arms around herself, feeling chilly. The baby kicked, wide awake now. "Why now?" Ranna asked. "Why does it matter now?" Helen didn't answer, standing and going to the trunk where they kept their clothes. She pulled on a shirt she could barely button and walked out. The beach wasn't far and Helen walked across the moonlit sand, trying to untangle the ball of emotions in her chest. Perhaps she was being ridiculous, but the thoughts had plagued her for months. Ranna didn't seem to understand. "Helen!" Of course Ranna had come after her. Helen stood just above the tide, not turning. "What's going on?" Ranna asked, clearly annoyed.

Untitled Sanctuary Island AU, Helen/Ranna (this is my favorite interaction between them right now)

🦩dealer's choice (choose any quote at all! or the summary / ao3 tags thing! whatever! wild card!)

The door opened, but only as far as the chain allowed. A suspicious blue eye regarded him. That eye did not look happy. "Yes?" "Helen Druitt?" "Magnus. I never changed my name. I don't know why everyone assumes I did." she said. Nikola was fairly certain he had just hit strike one without even meaning to. And to be fair to her, he had just assumed. He had only been told her first name, after all. He cleared his throat. "I apologize." Her eye narrowed. Nikola really wished that he could see her whole face, so that he could judge how this was going. "What do you want?" "Can you open the door so we can talk properly?" Nikola asked. For a few moments he thought that was going to get him the door slammed in his face, but it gently closed and he heard the chain slide. The door reopened and he was able to get his first real look at Helen Magnus. She was a tall woman, perhaps an inch shy of Nikola's height. Her eyes were blue, as he had already seen. Her brunette hair was pulled messily into a bun on the back of her head and had a pencil stabbed through it. Her clothes were wrinkled and stained with various colors that he thought might have been from paint. "What do you want?" she repeated. He cleared his throat. "My name is Nikola Tesla. Your husband--" "Ex-husband." Helen said, heat in her tone. Well, now, that was something that Mr-I'm-taller-than-you-and-will-loom-over-you-menancingly-even-during-a-civil-conversation had failed to mention. "Your ex-husband. He hired me." "For what?" Good God, had the man just decide to sic Nikola on his wife--ex-wife--without even giving her a heads up? Nikola wasn't certain that he had liked the man, but he had seemed civil. Had spoken politely and to the point about Helen. "He didn't tell you?" "I've been ignoring his calls." Helen said, face flushing a bit as she tilted her chin defiantly at the same time. "What has John hired you for?" "You."

Untitled Teslen Fic (as a treat)

Okay, I went a little overboard with that and reread a lot of stuff, but I'm not sorry for it, especially since I wasn't having a great day until then.

[4uru-draws]

Tried to practice my bangla handwriting outside of making notes for tomorrow's exam by writing bangla song lyrics.😅

(My dad says it looks like an "moheerner ghoraguli' band album)

[captain-kraken]

OC Deep Dive Tag

Thank you @the-inkwell-variable for tagging me over here!

I'll answer these for Pocha Ranna <3

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

Pocha is afraid of Gishars.

Do they have any pet peeves?

He HATES it when people lie to him. He doesn't care how bad the truth is, he much prefers that over being lied to.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Various bones, hammock, snakes.

What do they notice first in a person?

Whether or not they're a gishar.

On a scale from 1-10 how high is their pain tolerance?

About an 8. He's experienced a LOT of pain so it takes a lot these days to really affect him.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Definitely fight.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

He comes from a very large family, though it's kind of complicated. The only family he has now is Veila and the two of them are very close. Partly because they're twins, partly because they're the only company they both have for the most part.

What animal represents them best?

A snake lol. His Laeka has corrupted his physical appearance to be more snake-like, probably because he's always loved them so much.

What is a smell they dislike?

Smoke.

Have they broken any bones?

Yes. He has no self preservation lol. He broke his leg once by falling out of a tree, both wrists on separate occasions, and two of his fingers by punching someone in the face too hard. He also broke one of his teeth by trying to angrily bite the shell of a bone-thief crab.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Creepy. That's what most people call him.

Are they a night owl, or morning bird?

Night owl. He likes the cover of darkness, he can hunt a lot better.

What’s a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

He hates the flavour of coffee. But he LOVES fish.

Do they have any hobbies?

He enjoys climbing trees, bug-watching, hunting, swimming, and adventuring.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprise?

Well, the only person that would be there is Veila so it wouldn't be much of a surprise lol. In general though, he likes surprises. Because of his power he knows too much about the past, so he likes being able to fantasise about the future.

Do they like to wear jewellery?

Yes. He has necklaces made of teeth, wooden beads in his hair, a woven bracelet that Veila made for him, and ear gauges. But his favourite is his emerald anklet, which is his most prized possession.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Pocha can't read or write.

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Longing and joy.

Do they have a favourite fabric?

He actually hates most fabrics and can't stand the feeling of them on his skin, so he usually only has on the bare minimum.

What kind of accent do they have?

Pocha has an unusual accent as it has a Bahavian base but some of his words dip into other accents.

No pressure tag for @writernopal @noblebs @bardicbeetle @bardic-tales & open tag!

Blank questions under cut:

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

Do they have any pet peeves?

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

What do they notice first in a person?

On a scale from 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

What animal represents them best?

What is a smell they dislike?

Have they broken any bones?

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Are they a night owl, or morning bird?

What’s a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

Do they have any hobbies?

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprise?

Do they like to wear jewellery?

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Do they have a favourite fabric?

What kind of accent do they have?